Esther's Innocence

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Esther's Innocence Page 9

by Benjamin Boswell


  “You’re a girl!” the doctor said in surprised shock. The world finally came back into focus as she looked up at him, his eyes staring at her cloth wrapped chest.

  Esther felt her cheeks warm, suddenly feeling very self-conscious and exposed under the gaze of all these men—and most especially that of the handsome young doctor. Irritated by his description of her as a mere girl—and still feeling a bit woozy and uncomfortable—she replied abrasively, “Yes, and you’re a boy!”

  In an attempt to regain her composure and dignity, she pushed herself up onto her elbows. Her head began to spin again and she squeezed her eyes shut to try and clear it, then opened them slowly. From the looks of it, she was in the captain’s cabin at the aft end of the ship. Eight large windows stretched along the back wall and looked out into the dark night sky.

  “Here,” said the man who had carried her into the room, holding up a blanket. He helped her sit up all the way and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. He was a tall man, with thinning gray hair, a kind face, and a friendly, compassionate smile. “My name is Mr. Jefferies, but everybody just calls me Mac. I’m the captain’s steward. This,” he said, pointing to a uniformed gentleman with a round face and bright blue eyes, “is Captain Josef Karlsson of His Majesty’s Ship Nautilus.”

  “Thank you, Mac,” Captain Karlsson said, stepping forward, “Young lady, I’m afraid that I’m a bit confused about how you came to be here. Did you stow away aboard somehow, and if so, how did you end up tumbling out of the sails?”

  Esther shook her head, then wished she hadn’t as her vision began to spin again. She put a hand to her forehead momentarily until the room stopped spinning. She looked up at the Captain. “No sir,” she said, “I came from one of the warships you are pursuing. I jumped overboard in order to escape. I know it was a crazy plan, but I figured that if I landed just right, I could use your sails to break my fall. And it seems to have worked…” She almost laughed at the surprise in her own voice. Her back was still tingling madly, but the dizziness had subsided and she felt better with each passing moment.

  “That’s impossible,” said a voice scornfully. It came from a man standing behind the captain. The captain stepped to the left slightly, letting the man step forward. He was an older gentleman with glasses and a snobbish air about him. “It’s highly unlikely that someone could jump overboard and just happen to land in our sails—and no one could survive a fall from that height.”

  “That’s not true,” replied Esther with a hint of resentment, “There have been many accounts of airmen falling from airships at great height who have survived. These reports indicated that the ones who survived had landed in something very soft, like snow, or a haystack. According to Meissner’s force of impact calculations, by extending the impact interval, the force of the impact can be reduced significantly—and I didn’t ‘just happen’ to land in your sails. I did it on purpose.”

  Complete silence filled the room as everyone stood there staring at her.

  “Captain, please, there’s no time,” said Esther, exasperated. “You have to move now if you wish to take the Madrausan warships and rescue the captured people on those transports—”

  “We’ve been trying to do just that,” interrupted the Captain, “It’s taken everything we’ve got just to catch up. With the wind, we’re faster, but those Madrausan warships are more maneuverable and have stayed between us and the transports. I just don’t see a way for us to take them out. Not two of them anyway,” Captain Karlsson shook his head. “We outgun them singly, but we’d be ripped to shreds if we tried to take them head on. More than likely, they’d just ram and board us.”

  “Captain, but that’s what I’m trying to tell you,” said Esther, trying to be patient, “Just before I left the Madrausan warship, I sabotaged all but their aft propellers. Right now they are vulnerable!”

  “Sabotaged? How?” said the captain.

  “There isn’t time for me to explain in detail, but most of their propellers are not functioning. They can’t maneuver.”

  “Captain,” said a tall man behind Esther, “If that Madrausan warship truly is vulnerable, this might be our only chance to save those people.” He was wearing an officer’s uniform similar to the captains. If Esther had to guess, she would say he was probably the first officer.

  “How do we know this…girl, isn’t an imposter sent by the Madrausan’s to lure us into a trap,” the stuffy old man who’d doubted her before said, “She’s obviously not Ardmorran.” His tone of voice and how he had called her a ‘girl’ infuriated Esther and she could feel the anger burning inside of her. She opened her mouth to deliver a scathing rebuke to the old windbag, but the Captain interrupted her.

  “I doubt that even the Madrausan’s would think to try and throw a young woman overboard in such a wild scheme. Besides, just because she doesn’t have the Northern blood, doesn’t mean she’s not Ardmorran, am I correct Miss—?”

  “Esther Kelley, sir. And yes, you are correct. I am Ardmorran. My mother immigrated before I was born and married my adoptive father, Hans Kelley of Tewksbury.”

  “Alright Miss Kelley. I have to agree with my first officer. I hope you’re right about that Madrausan warships propellers, otherwise our lives—and yours—will be over in very short order.” The captain turned to the tall man in uniform, “Mr. Gerard, sound general quarters! I want an emergency climb! Fill the bunkers and drop the ballast!”

  “Aye sir,” Gerard said and dashed out the door. Esther could hear him calling out orders and a bell began to ring loudly.

  “Doctor, she seems fine,” said the Captain, “Did you note anything during your brief examination that we need to worry about?”

  “No sir. She has some bruising on her back that I’ll give her a salve for. Otherwise, she appears to be fine. Of course, there could be problems going on internally that we can’t see.”

  “Good, well then, I’ll leave her in your care. If you’ll excuse me Miss Kelley,” said the captain, turning to leave, “I’ve got a battle to fight.” As he reached the doorway, he turned back briefly and tipped his head to her. “Well done!” Then he was gone.

  Pride swelled within her at the Captain’s praise, but she was quickly distracted as she felt the ship begin to rise quickly and her ears popped. Men came rushing into the room, pulling covers off the two cannons on each side of the room.

  “Miss,” the doctor said, “Do you feel well enough to walk?” Esther nodded. “Then if you’ll follow me,” he continued, “I’ll take you further below where it will be safer—and less noisy. I need to prepare my surgical station.”

  Esther nodded and stood gingerly. She pulled the blanket a bit tighter and grabbed her tunic off the table, then followed the doctor out of the cabin and onto the gun deck. The ship was a bustle of activity as men prepared for battle. The main gun deck was being cleared of extra gear, and cannons were being primed and loaded. The ceiling was lower in this area than Esther imagined, causing the taller men to have to stoop. Esther followed the doctor forward, past a large metal capstan which could be used to pull cargo up through the main hatch. They followed an airman carrying extra equipment down a companionway just aft of the mainmast to the next deck below.

  Still heading towards the bow of the ship, they walked past an area with a large, grated hatch in both the ceiling and the floor. This was most probably how they loaded bulk goods into their main holds, thought Esther. Hammocks hung in sections all about this area. They walked into a room in the bow of the ship. A dark stained table stood in the center of the room and two beds stood against each flanking wall. A young man who looked to be about Esther’s age was laying out medical instruments on a table in the corner. A pungent odor filled the area—it smelled a lot like the rum her father favored on the infrequent occasions when he drank.

  “This is the sickbay, or surgeon’s area,” said the young doctor, “I take care of the sick, or men wounded in battle here.” He must have noticed her sniffing at the air. “We us
e the alcohol in the rum to help sanitize the table and our surgical instruments. I’ve found that it reduces the chances of infection by a significant margin.”

  Esther nodded, pondering why alcohol would prevent infection—maybe for the same reason that it made water last longer—she wasn’t nearly as well read in the medical fields. Her thoughts were interrupted, however, as the ship swung around to starboard and the deck canted slightly, causing Esther to stumble.

  “Careful there,” said the doctor, grabbing her arm and steadying her as the ship righted itself, “That change of course likely means they’ve found your floundering ship in the dark and the Captain is lining up to engage. Thomas,” the doctor turned to the young man preparing his medical instruments, “Sand the deck. We’re going to need it soon.”

  Esther really wanted to be up on deck to see what was going on. She watched the young doctor carefully, and when he seemed preoccupied, she slipped quietly out the door. Dropping the blanket to the floor, she pulled on her tunic again, wincing as it pressed against the bruised skin of her back. Still feeling a bit chilled, she picked the blanket back up and wrapped it around herself again, then headed aft, retracing her steps to the companionway that led up to the gun deck, and then up another one to the main deck .

  As she stepped out onto the deck, a gust of cold night air grabbed at the blanket, whipping it about her legs. It was a windy night and she wondered if a storm might be blowing in over the next day or two. Looking about, Esther noted airmen climbing about up in the rigging while others manned the carronade guns. The professionalism and handling of this ship was as different from the Madrausan ship as night was to day. This ship rose smoothly as it gained altitude—unlike when she’d been onboard the Madrausan ship, which had seesawed fore and aft as it rose unevenly. The sail rigging on the Nautilus was much more complicated as well, with three masts and multiple yard arms—it would take a professional officer corps and trained crew to be able to handle this ship properly.

  Looking out into the night sky, Esther could see the lantern lights of the Madrausan flotilla off a ways, hanging in the air slightly above the Nautilus’ current elevation. The Nautilus turned a couple of degrees to starboard and Esther’s attention focused on the darkened silhouette of a ship up ahead. It must be the one she’d crippled with her sabotage. The Madrausan’s had doused the lanterns in an attempt to hide their crippled ship in the darkness, but somehow the Nautilus’ lookouts had found her. Captain Karlsson was steering the Nautilus in behind the stricken ship, bringing the port broadside to bear against the enemy’s vulnerable stern. It was then that Esther spotted the lantern lights of what must be the other Madrausan warship, coming about in an attempt to aid their stricken comrade. They weren’t going to get here in time though. The darkness had masked what had happened to the crippled warship and it had taken them too long to answer its alarms.

  Towards the bow of the Nautilus, the cannons on the portside boomed, shattering the still night air with a piercing bellow. The booming cannon fire continued, rolling toward Esther like an approaching thunderstorm as each gun came to bear and fired on the stricken ships stern. Esther covered her ears with her hands as the booming sound passed beneath and behind her. When it was done, she lowered her hands and could hear the cries of wounded and dying men as Nautilus pulled away from the warship.

  Such a brutal attack on the practically defenseless and structurally vulnerable stern of the Madrausan ship wasn’t enough to destroy it completely, but it had finished the job that Esther’s sabotage had started, and the aft propellers, the rudder, and the entire quarterdeck area were a complete wreck. The ship was not going anywhere fast and couldn’t steer until lengthy repairs could be made, if at all.

  The deck under her feet canting sharply and Esther swayed as the Nautilus came about. She didn’t lose her balance this time though and she angled her body with the heel of the ship. She was becoming accustomed to the ever changing ground beneath her feet and she felt a little bit of pride at how quickly she had adapted.

  Esther watched as the Captain brought the Nautilus about, lining up on the other Madrausan warship now bearing down upon them. She could here shouting below as Mr. Gerard harried the gun crews who were reloading the port guns as quickly as possible.

  Although she couldn’t make out the details of the Madrausan ship in the darkness, its lights were hurtling directly toward them from a slightly higher altitude. They were obviously trying to ram the Nautilus. A gun duel would be the last thing the Madrausan’s would want. The Madrausan ship—with its thinner hull and vulnerable propellers—wouldn’t stand a chance in such a fight against the larger Ardmorran warship with its heavier guns and thicker hull. No, they would try to ram and board her—and given each ship’s current position, heading, and the direction of the wind, they were very likely to succeed. However, they were going to pay a steep price to get close—the port guns had finished loading and the gun crews were running them out.

  The captain shouted the order to bring the ship sharply to starboard. This tilted the port side up slightly, elevating the cannon’s muzzles to point directly down the Madrausan ships throat. A deafening roar assaulted Esther’s ears as the entire port broadside unleashed its fury against the bow of the enemy ship bearing down upon them. However, the Madrausan ships bows were reinforced and much more heavily armored—specifically in order to enable them to ram other ships. The fusillade of heavy cannon fire at such a small area broke through the hull, but it wasn’t enough to completely destroy the bow with its large metal tipped ram. Esther wrapped her arms around one of the shrouds—the big thick ropes that held up each of the masts—as the Madrausan ship made its final push.

  She ducked her head as the ships impacted and the deck shifted under her feet with a sudden jerking motion. Wooden beams snapped and shattered. The sound was deafening as it assaulted her eardrums and the hull groaned under the weight of the collision. It was almost like the Nautilus was crying out in anguish. Esther looked up and saw that the Madrausan ship had rammed the Nautilus slightly aft of center at an acute angle. Captain Karlsson’ last minute evasive maneuver had saved the Nautilus from a straight ‘T’ collision. The enemy ship’s weakened bow structure had buckled against the heavy timbers of the Nautilus’ side, the metal tipped ram only lightly penetrating the Nautilus’ hull, but still enough that the two ships were stuck fast. Already, Esther could see Madrausan men running forward with boarding planks and grappling hooks and a feeling of dismay washed over her.

  A shout from the quarterdeck pulled her attention aft. The captain stood at the quarterdeck railing, his sword drawn, shouting orders to the men about him. The carronade cannons opened fire, case shot cutting down scores of Madrausans. Marines in the rigging above opened fire with their long-guns as well, and although the gun’s accuracy was poor, the crowded enemy meant that they were bound to hit someone. The sheer carnage caused by the fire from the carronade cannons turned Esther’s stomach, threatening to bring up its contents. One man was literally torn into pieces by a direct hit from one of the cannons. She looked away and coughed, gagging.

  The devastation reeked upon the Madrausans by the carronades and the marine’s gun-fire hadn’t stemmed the tide of men, however, and they surged aboard while the cannons were being reloaded. Metal rang as swords and axes crashed together and the fighting quickly turned into close hand-to-hand combat.

  Men from the gun deck were coming up the companionway to join the fight, forcing Esther to move aft. She should probably go back below, but the press of men coming up the companionways and the desire to see what was going to happen kept her from doing so. Win or lose, she needed to be on deck to watch it unfold.

  The quarterdeck looked like it was going to be the safest place to be, so Esther headed that way, pulling the blanket tight around her shoulders. Before she made it there, a group of Madrausans pushed through the defending Ardmorrans, leaving one of them standing directly in front of Esther, blocking her path to the quarterdeck. He held a c
lub in his left hand and gave her a sharp glare before growling something in his native Madrausan and swinging his club at her head.

  Esther’s years of dance had instilled a grace and ease of movement in her that allowed her to dodge the blow with ease. The man’s eyes widened in surprise, but he recovered quickly and sneered at her. He grabbed the club with both hands and stepped toward her preparing to swing again. Dodging is only going to get me so far, Esther thought, I’ve got to attack. Problem was, Esther had no idea how to fight back. She didn’t have a weapon and had never been trained to fight or brawl like some of the boys in Tewksbury. The man swung the club, putting all of his strength behind it. Esther shot forward and ducked under the swing—dropping the blanket as she did so. She brought her left hand, balled into a fist, against the man’s rib cage as hard as she could, then jumped back. The man didn’t seem to even feel the blow. All she got for her effort was a sprained wrist and a bloody knuckle.

  “Out of the way, boy!” a gravelly voice yelled behind her. A hand grabbed her shoulder and pushed her aside. She fell against the ship’s railing as a big Ardmorran marine pushed past her. The Madrausan was still recovering from his two-handed swing at Esther and was caught off-guard. The marine smashed his own club into the Madrausan’s face and he fell. Her path to the quarterdeck was now clear! She quickly slid along the starboard rail of the ship and ran up onto the quarterdeck, ducking behind a barrel with her back against the starboard railing as she tried to remain as inconspicuous as possible and stay out of the way. She was almost directly behind where Captain Karlsson and his men were engaged with the enemy and had a good view of the fighting. It was brutal. She’d seen animals slaughtered on the farm—she’d even helped her father do some of it—but the brutality of the carnage she was witnessing was beyond anything she could ever imagine.

  The Madrausans were pressing hard, trying to get as many of their men onboard the Nautilus as possible. Esther’s attention was ripped from the main battle as a large Madrausan swung over from his ship on a rope. He dropped to the ground with a yell, right between herself and Captain Karlsson, who had his back to her. The Captain whirled about, bringing his sword up, barely deflecting an overhand strike from the man’s sword. The force of the blow caused him to stumble, however. He tried to get his feet under him, but Esther could see that he was too off balance to recover quickly enough.

 

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